


Nothing Matters

by grimalkinInferno



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, Eventual Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Not Canon Compliant, Oscar needs a hug, Post-Chapter 3, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-blaming, Spoilers: Volume 6 (RWBY), Volume 6 (RWBY), Whump, birb dad, but i have the whole story planned out already and have for a few months now, chapter 4 rewrite, honestly im very excited for you guys to read this, not all of these tags show up just yet, oscar-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2019-11-04 19:32:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimalkinInferno/pseuds/grimalkinInferno
Summary: Based off of an idea I got from tiki's work All That Matters and the rewrite I did of that. We had a poll, and this was one of the winning options. That fic is finished- this one, however, is just beginning.-Oscar finds himself in a difficult position following the reveal of Oz's past and the subsequent outbursts. With barely any plan and more than a little stupidity, he decides to do what he can to make things right.This can only go well.





	1. A Plan Forms (Or What We Pretend Is One)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [All That Matters (alternate ending)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969710) by [grimalkinInferno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimalkinInferno/pseuds/grimalkinInferno), [tikii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tikii/pseuds/tikii). 



So, that's how it is.

  
He gets it, really, he does. It still stings a little, but the cold kind of helps with that. Besides, it wasn't meant for him. It was meant for Oz. The fact that he was collateral damage didn't matter, because no one considered that. No one thought of it, thought of anything, because emotions were red hot and overflowing and he can still feel the tears on his face that weren't his and is it even his face anymore, his body, is he even him anymore, what's going to happen to him-

  
... Anyway. That doesn't matter. What matters is figuring out what to do next. Focus on one objective. Right now it doesn't seem like anyone has much of a plan. If they did, it's not like Oscar would know; no one's talking to him. Or to each other. No one's talking. It's dead silent. Which is kind of nerve-wracking.

  
Staring at the back of Yang's head, golden hair swinging back and forth, he wonders what she thinks. If she thinks he's a bastard too. As it stands, the chances of that being true are pretty high. It's not like he's been good for a whole lot except for digging up other people's dirt and making everyone hate each other. He wonders what might've happened if he hadn't done anything. Would things be better? Was it for the best that now everyone knew everything, even if it was the cause of... all this? Did he do the right thing?

  
Do they even want him around right now?

  
The crunching of snow underfoot lessens by one as he staggers to a halt. The thought catches him off-guard. Not because it's a particularly surprising one, but because of how likely it is that the answer is no. He glances up again, stares forward at the backs turned towards him, and wonders if anyone would look back to see if he was still following if he just. Stopped.

  
So far, it doesn't seem like it. Not a glance in his direction. He watches on as Blake's boots continue making tracks in the snow, as Ruby's scarlet cape trails behind her, as Weiss pulls unconsciously at the scarf around her neck. He doesn't think about Qrow, because he already knows he doesn't want him around. He's made that abundantly clear.

  
He stands there as the snow falls delicately onto the receding figures he once thought he had some form of kinship with, silent and cold. He feels... something. It's a familiar feeling, one that he normally would assume didn't mean anything. But now he knows what this yawning emptiness in his chest is, and he knows that he's going to have to get used to it.

  
It's loneliness.

  
It's the realization that he never had a place here, not really. That they were merely tolerating his existence because they had a use for him. He's an outcast, an other, and as much as it hurts he can't find it in himself to be even a little bit angry about it. After all, it's not like they were wrong. He's not special or important or strong or even particularly brave. He's just Oscar, and he's not even sure how long he's going to be that, either.

  
As the minutes pass by, he decides he should keep walking anyway, and as he sets another foot forward something bumps against his leg.

  
The Relic.

  
That's weird. He could've sworn Ruby had it- but no, now he remembers, Ruby had given it to him along with the cane. Following Qrow's comment, he had snatched it back without thinking about what exactly she was giving to him. Now that he's thinking about it, he honestly can't believe she did. Maybe she didn't realize? Maybe he should give it back.

  
But then, what would that prove? Was this a test of some sort? Was she trying to see if they really could trust him? If he could actually be responsible for something so important? That doesn't seem like something Ruby would do, but he can't seem to move forward.

  
Oscar looks back up, back at the people who aren't looking at him, and he makes a decision.

  
The thought process is simple. They don't want anything to do with him, Oz, or the Relics anymore. They don't have a reason to keep doing this, and he doesn't blame them. Oscar, however, doesn't really have a choice. This is his burden to bear, whether he likes it or not. Honestly, they don't deserve to keep carrying something they don't have to. They've lost enough already.

Oscar doesn't really have anything to lose.

  
So he clenches his fists, closes his heart to the yawning ache in his chest, and turns around.

  
He's going to take the Relic to Atlas himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oscar, no, thats a terrible plan. oscar. the angst is coming. oh god, he has airpods in. he cant hear us. oh my god
> 
> anyway. hope yall are excited :) short chapter to start us off! more stream of consciousness than anything. its more of a prologue honestly. i dont really expect the chapters to be very long in general, but hopefully that just means i will post more often


	2. Introspection Ensues (Or Another Name For Stupidity)

Oscar didn't have anything to make a fire with.

 

He should've, really, considering he was surviving in the wilderness, but he didn't think he'd be quite as alone as he was now. The empty, busted train car did provide some insulation, thank the gods. Even so, his old farming gear wasn't exactly built for this type of climate. He wasn't totally exposed, but... how much better was this, exactly?

 

The walk back had been... numb. He hadn't even known exactly where to go. By the time he’d realized he ought to have a plan, it was already dark, he’d spotted the crash sight, and decided this was as good a spot to camp out as any. So here he sat, curled up and shivering, supposing he ought to feel pretty damn sorry for himself, and instead feeling a whole lot of nothing. It wasn't that Oscar was oblivious to his circumstances. Quite the opposite, it was all he was able to think about. He was totally alone here, having to fend entirely for himself, facing basically every evil force in Remnant with a stick and maybe three months of extremely bare-bones huntsman training. Technically Oz was there... oh wait, no he wasn't. Still gone. Yep, Oscar was alone. 

 

_ This is fine, _ he thought.  _ If I die, Oz will just go to someone else and the relic will be lost in the wilderness with next to no hopes of ever finding it unless by chance. If I don't die, none of the others will be forced into this mess against their will, and the relic will be in better hands. Then my friends can- _

 

... Oh. Right. He didn't have any friends. Not anymore. (Did he ever have them to begin with?)

 

Whatever. He might've been dead weight, but he cared about them. The least he could do was try and make things right, one way or another. That was what he wanted since the start, right? To help people, no matter the cost? That was what being a huntsman was about, right? Oscar knew he wasn't a huntsman, far from it, but he could at least try to act like one. For their sakes. No matter how cold and dark it got, how harsh the cold bit into him, how bone-chilling the distant roars-

 

Wait.

 

Oscar peered at the lamp clipped to his belt. It glowed, faintly blue and innocent, lighting up the interior of the gray metal husk that used to carry him and his friends toward somewhere a bit more hopeful. It pulsed softly, and in time with the light he heard it. A horrible, grating,  _ familiar  _ roar, and the beating of wings. Unbidden, a memory resurfaced:

 

_ "I'm afraid there's one complication... The Grimm are also attracted to this." _

 

Oh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another stream of consciousness short one. i promise the build-up is worth it!


End file.
